By midday, the sun blazed high, casting a bright glare over the jam-packed traffic. Tang-Ji peered out the window, taking in the sprawling view of the modern metropolis stretching beneath the clear theatre.
Suddenly, a melodious tune threaded into her hearing; light glanced off her diamond-bright eyes. She turned—Emiko beside her, a pop-idol chorus spilling from the phone.
"Eh, are you interested?" Emiko, a smug tilt to her mouth.
"This is Mai; she's a very famous pop idol—also a Cubetuber who boosted Dusk Protocol."
"She's a model too, featured in almost every major VR title. Poster girl for the top-tier studios."
"Wow, she's really pretty." Tang-Ji's voice barely above breath—then the tug of something older: a girl with blue hair, leaning through the fog of memory, urging her to wake.
"You alright? You don't look well. Getting buss sick?" Emiko's concern cutting through the music.
Tang-Ji remained silent with an ashen-faced and visibly shaking body. Her glum expression and obvious trembling frightened Emiko as she retracted her arms.
Before she could reply to Emiko, the bus finally came to a stop. A giant shadow around the bus suddenly enlarged itself as the team glanced out the windows to find a 4-story structure that appeared to span several city blocks.
Sanga Stadium was no longer the name of this location; instead, a large inscription was displayed over the building's main entrance, VIRM TECH.
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SSD, a device that emulates a condition of coma in the brain to simulate reality in a person's awareness; hence, the name Soul Synchronisation. A device that appears to expel a person's soul from their body and transport them to another realm.
With a 270-degree glass pane and a lengthy titanium skeleton enclosing the stall to rest your body on, the Soul Synchronisation Dive gadget resembled a longitudinal capsule. The SSD functioned as a source of strength transfer, both mentally and physically.
The mental or physical strength of an individual determined their competence and power in a game; some people might have a weak physique but a steely will. This may be detected by the gadget via brain neurons and transferred as strength and skills into the game.
With just a slight mechanical improvement, in-game reactions in terms of timing, speed, power, and endurance are all based on real-life reactions.
Thousands of shaded pots are located on a big white platform that was lifted several levels above the ground. There was only enough space for the contender to go through each of the incline-set capsules that were barely a few inches apart from one another.
Tang-Ji experienced a violent jolt that sent shockwaves through her entire body. Her eyes swam, and she appeared to be enveloped in a brilliant technological mist. Intimidated by the vast place, she glanced back at her companions, only to see sparkles appearing in their eyes.
"Look, it seems like the other schools have arrived as well. The official time of the tournament will be an hour from now, but players are allowed to enter the game first to get used to the brain control techniques." Kazami excitedly pointed out.
"Come on, team, let's head into the game first before the other students," his voice took the lead, already moving.
"Alright, captain." Ji-Soon's grin said the rest.
"Sure. Let's go," Emiko added.
"Alright." Tang-Ji's answer came small, nerves threading the word.
While the other players were preparing themselves to get into the capsule, Emiko could be seen examining the exterior of her pot. As she got into the compartment, a small device could be seen left attached to the side of the SSD.
"Azuki-san? What's that USB attached to the side?" A voice came from behind her.
Emiko flinched, her hand pausing mid-motion. She didn't respond, and instead, her eyes darted away as she slipped back into her pot, the lid snapping shut with a soft clink before he could catch her gaze.
Kazami blinked, taken aback by her hasty retreat. "Did she connect her music playlist to the device, perhaps?" The thought flickered past, half-confused.
The wide-shaded glass frame shuts with a loud thud, the steel claw gripping the back of Tang-Ji's neck with cotton-coated steel. The cotton surface of the skeleton claws could be felt softly attaching themselves to her clothing.
It began to leak a weird, odourless liquid, but for some reason, she didn't feel her skin growing moist or her clothes getting damp; instead, she thought the liquid was just air surrounding her restless body.
It kind of reminded her of that one time she went to cryotherapy, lying motionlessly inside the claustrophobic-inducing pod as if it were her coffin. The device started beeping, signalling to the participant that their consciousness was gradually being transferred.
As directed by Kazami, she closed her eyes and started mumbling a count of ten in her head. With each countdown, she started to break out in a cold sweat, and she could feel her heartbeat speeding up and her anxiety growing uncontrollably. Before she realised it, a white screen with a black border appeared in front of her as she was greeted with the words "input username."
Tang-Ji quickly traced her finger on the white screen to input her username before clicking a small text box besides her chosen name. She was suddenly immersed in a clear green pillar of light, passing the viridescent veil; her username in her vision blurred out steadily before plunging her into complete darkness.
Within a few seconds of emerging from the green digital mist, Tang-Ji twitched her body before opening her eyes to see a powerful wind current flowing in her direction and sweeping up her hair. She turned her head around, only to be met with anticipation by a particular wood that caught her eyes as it began to bloom vibrantly, illuminating the surrounding darkness.
The cherry blossoms on the tree tumble down—sorrowful fairy flowers, pieces of white cloud, tears of rain. Their departure from the branches is the tree's unretained heart, the wind's spirit carrying them across the dim horizon.
Sprightly, a sunflower bloom: paper-thin petals stretching nearly ten inches, edges rich with dotted patterns. It drifts with the elegance of a flower caught in wind, an enchanting aura—dancing in the upper realm.
I can't find words for the petal's colour—an intense shade of pink with a cold cast, an ice sculpture. It falls on a gentle breeze with beauty and delicacy. Pink snowflakes flutter across Tang-Ji's face, tapping her cheeks with a soft, elastic touch.
They really do fall five centimetres per second, just as they said. I let out a chuckle. With every tick of the clock's fastest hand, a cherry blossom drifts closer to the ground. I wonder—how quickly would she fall toward him?
Where she stood was a large road paved with stone. Japanese-style streets were surrounded by streetlamps, a multitude of buildings, and rocks radiating a vibrant light a fair distance up ahead.
The huge structure could be seen filled with Ema hanging all over the place, along with a large Komainu staring down at Tang-Ji as her eyes sparkled under the dim lighting. (Ema are pieces of wood which visitors of the shrine can write down their prayers and wishes for the deity of the shrine to receive.) (Komainu is a pair of guardian dogs or lions, often found on each side of a shrine's entrance.)
"Isn't the view stunning? I never thought such a world could exist." The green veil unshrouded around Kazami as it began submerging into the wooden platform.
The view reminded him of the spring festivals his mother used to take him to—the way the petals drifted through the air, soft and ghostly.
She'd once told him a story, a hazy legend about cherry blossoms being the souls of ancestors who'd come to visit, only to scatter again at the slightest breeze. She said they were beautiful, yes—but always just out of reach, leaving only a lingering sense of something fleeting, something he could never fully grasp.
"It's like they're just... fragments now," Kazami murmured, almost to himself.
"Scattered, a dream you can't quite hold onto, no matter how hard you try." He stretched out his hand, as if to catch the imaginary petal, but his fingers only closed on empty air.
A hollow frustration settled deep in his chest, the kind that lingered when something precious remained just out of reach, leaving him with nothing but the memory of what might've been whole once.
He let out a sigh, a bitter smile flickering across his face. "I guess we're all just... reaching for something that's already gone. And maybe that's what's left now—just empty hands."
He paused, his gaze lingering on the scene around them before he turned back to Tang-Ji. "So, I see you're still sticking with the name Zilynx after all these years."
"Huh? How did you know that was my username?"
"Look up above my head. Can you see it? There should be a green cursor, and it should indicate your chosen name in bold. If you look to your upper left, you will see a faint energy and hit point bar along with your level and experience points." Kazami instructed her.
Tang-Ji squinted as she traced her eyes in her field of vision, right above Kazami's head.
"Kirizkuuk. You kept the same name—the one from your last game." A hitch, then the correction slips out. "You know, Sen—Kazami—how did you come up with that name?"
A long silence stretched out between the two players as the digital sound from their green icons hovering above their heads echoed gently in unison. Kazami's expression could be seen changing as he slowly averted his eyes.
"Someone made that name for me when I was a kid; for me to log into a game, I needed a gamer tag. Though it has been long ago, the name has been with me, sort of like a gift from that person." Kazami spoke with a faint trace of sorrow.
Noticing Kazami's expressions, she tried to divert the conversation.
"Kazami... what do you mean by all these years, this is only the second time you saw my name?"
Before Kazami could reply, a rumbling sound started to reverberate in her ears. As it blasted a shrieking pitch over the large shrine, the air started to rapidly condense. Before she could react, the digital sky began to soak up the colour of blood.